Sort Of
by GalnKay
Summary: A random Sirius/Hermione songfic. Love is sometimes a stubborn old thing.


**This came to me one day whilst listening to this song by the lovely Ingrid Michaelson. Personally, the lyrics are beautiful and they have a nice flow to them. So I hope you all enjoy this nice little ramble, and keep in mind, I havent done a songfic in a very long time.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K.R does. **

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Sort Of:

_Baby you've got the sort of hands to rip me apart_  
_And baby you've got the sort of face to start this old heart_  
_But your eyes are warning me this early morning_  
_That my love's too big for you my love_

She was beautiful. Stunning actually. The way her little turned up nose wrinkled when she laughed her high ringing laugh, or they way her big caramel eyes sparkled and shone when she was pleased. The way she would glare and rant and rave and be a prissy little swot. The way she would stay up all night, going through thick dusty novels one at a time, until he would have to carry her up to her room, and tuck her in with a soft kiss on her smooth little forehead, closing the door quietly behind him before padding to his own cold bed. Or the way she would twirl her fingers in her frizzy mass of honey colored hair when she was nervous. He loved it. Every bit of it. All of the kinks and the quirks. Everything that completed Hermione Jean Granger.

Sirius was old. Twice her age. Old enough to be her father, at that. He was an ex-convict. A lady killer. A man who spent all of his evenings passed out behind bars and waking up in strange women's rooms. The type who was lazy and irresponsible, who didnt listen to anyone, who wasnt afraid of anything. And he loved her. She was young. So innocent. So free and happy and vivacious, with her whole life laid out ahead of her. She was perfect, infuriating, and perfectly infuriating.

She excited him. She turned him on. There wasnt much that a woman coul do that he hadnt seen before. To tell the truth, most women he met bored him to tears. Always the same body, the same voice, the same interests. She was upredictable. She wasnt abnormally skinny. She had curvy little love handles and he had seen her eat a whole twenty ounce steak in one setting plus dessert. She hated fashion and gossip and shopping and salads. She was unique. The extra color of the rainbow. The extra light in the sky.

She pushed him away. Again and again. He knew he loved her way too much. He knew that if he loved her anymore he would die. His soul would shatter into a million pieces from pure, undying adoration. He would die and float down to hell for being a total pervert and pedophile.

* * *

_Baby you've got the sort of laugh that waters me_  
_And makes me grow tall and strong and proud and flattens me_  
_I find you stunning, but you are running me down_  
_My love's too big for you my love._

Why? Why did she love him? Why was she so addicted to him that her heart hurt? Why did she feel weak in the knees at the slightest touch? Why did her heart pound unrelentlessly inside of her chest when he walked by, or when he turned on his famously intoxicating Sirius Black charm? Well she did, and she had no clue why.

Sirius Black was your average bad boy, shagging every woman in his sight and causing women to swoon at his feet. Honestly, she had no idea why she loved him so.

He really was a gorgeous man. His soft, thick, black hair. His stunning blue gray eyes. His aristocratic jawline. His prominent cheekbones. His sharp nose, and his face when he didnt shave. The tatoos that would show through his shirt and on his arms. The muscles that were clearly visible in his arms and torso. The rough hands that were strong and powerful. The devious smirk on his perfectly plump and kissable lips. She had it bad.

He was irritating and insensitive and immature. He was a five year old in a fourty year old's body. But on the other hand, he could turn right around and be kind and loyal and loving towards his godson. Then he would go right back to being the little spoiled brat he was.

She wanted him. She wanted all of him. She needed him so desperately that she stayed up all night pacing the floor, her heart screaming out for him, as if that would make him come running into her room to hold her. To rock her like a baby all night, whispering into her ear lovingly. For her to be cradled in the nest of protection warm and safe and happy, without having to worry about age or reputation or personality. Just them together. But she knew she was just kidding herself.

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_And if I was stronger then I would tell you no_  
_And if I was stronger then I will leave this show_  
_And if I was stronger then I would up and go_  
_But here I am and here we go again_

"'Mione, can I come in?" came a voice following the knock on her door. Hermione groaned and looked at the clock on the wall by her bed. 4:30 in the morning.

"Just a second." she said groggily. The door opened without heeding her request, revealing a messy and sleep-deprived Sirius Black. He walked in and sat on the foot of the bed, after slamming the door behind him. Hermione tried her best to cover herself up.

"Alright, come right in." she said sarcastically, secretly excited.

"Hermione. Come here." he said, his voice desperate. Hermione reluctantly got out of her warm bed, and winced as her feet came in contact with the cold floor. She immediately regretted her choice of sleepwear, when she saw the look in his eyes as he gazed over her body, which was clad in nothing but a tight cami and shorts. She sat down cross-legged beside him.

"What?" she asked irritably. Sirius put his hands on her shoulders and she automatically felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Tell me you dont feel it." he said gruffly. Hermione tilted her head.

"Feel what?"

"Dont lie to me, Hermione. Tell me there's nothing between us."

"Sirius..."

"Listen to me. I need you. I need you so much I just want to pick you up sometimes and kiss you right in front of everybody. Sometimes I just dont care, you know?" he said running his hands through his shaggy hair. Hermione sighed.

"There's too much of and age-"

"Difference, I know. But I love you, Hermione. With a passion. I dream about you. I think of you all the time. I think of holding you, of touching you, and of loving you for the rest of my life. There's no escaping it, 'Mione." Sirius said, pulling her towards his chest. Hermione didnt pull away.

"Kiss me Sirius." she whispered. Sirius looked into her eyes intently.

"This is wrong, you know that right?"

"I dont care." Hermione said, their lips meeting. Love. Bliss. Joy.

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_Baby you've got the sort of eyes that tell me tales_  
_That your sort of mouth just will not say, the truth impales_  
_That you don't need me, but you won't leave me_  
_My love's too big for you my love_

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**~The End~**

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**Sorry if its a bit rushed. I like the song anyways, and I enjoyed writing this. I hope you enjoy reading! Read and Review!**

**Thanks,**

**KAY :)**


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